


Horsing Around

by strommae (dibbit)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Pony Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-18 01:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dibbit/pseuds/strommae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk and Jake try something new.<br/>Warning: light pony play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Horsing Around

**Author's Note:**

> ((I can't look at the title of this without laughing))  
> This is my first Dirk/Jake fic, so I really would appreciate some advice/feedback. It's pretty vanilla for pony play. Enjoy c:

 

 

Dirk’s knee is between Jake’s legs and is pushing down hard, drawing an embarrassingly high pitched squeak from him. Jake grips Dirk’s arms and grinds his hips up once, only to have Dirk push them back down with a low chuckle.

“Not so fast,” Dirk whispers into his ear, his voice close to a growl. “I’m taking my time with my cute little pony.” Jake swallows and whimpers quietly. He turns his head to face Dirk, and the stupid headband for his pony ears dig into his temple.

There’s no way he’s letting Dirk talk him into this again, he thinks. Not only is it uncomfortable to have the costume on, but it’s also down right humiliating. Dirk’s endless coaxing and pleading may have worked once, but this was it, the first and _last_  time Jake would stick on fake ears, hooves, and a tail. At least, that’s what he promises himself as he winces at the pain in his temple.

Dirk kisses him on the nose when he looks up, a smug grin on his lips, then he’s trailing his mouth across Jake’s cheek to his other ear. Hot lips press against the base of it while one hand comes up to scratch at the fake one. Jake leans up into the touch.

“Now,” he breathes, “I want you to flip over and get on your hands and knees while I get the rest of your outfit...and keep your ass up in the air for me.” A knot tightens in Jake’s belly. The bed creaks as Dirk gets up.

Jake does as Dirk asked, rolling over and pushing up to his hands and knees, rolling his wrists uncomfortably under the leather half-hooves covering the tops of his hands. It’s taking far too long for Dirk to return, allowing Jake’s mind to wander; what the devil is he fetching now? Why again had he agreed to this? What’s that sound and oh God, is there a bag rustling back there? The uncertainty of it all makes his face heat, his blood rush, the heat between his legs just that much more insufferable.

He’s all flustered and breathing fast when Dirk finally climbs onto the bed again, and the open-handed smack across his bare ass is unexpected, to say the least. He gasps, hanging his head and tucking it between his shoulders. He almost bites through his bottom lip when Dirk’s amused chuckle tempts him to get up and punch the grin off of his face. He doesn’t, though, and the sting of the smack is still hot and burning when Dirk comes up behind Jake, jean-clad hips against his bare ones, gloved hands cold as they smooth across his back. When Jake shivers, he’s not sure if it’s from the cool of the leather or the dull burning on his ass or the anticipation of what’s to come.

That doesn’t matter, though, and neither does anything else, because now Dirk’s leaning over him, lips back at his ear and breathing hot air down the side of his face. “Okay,” he drawls, tightening that knot in Jake’s belly, “I’m going to put some reigns on you. It’s probably going to feel like bondage, mostly because it basically is.” Jake swallows and opens his mouth to protest, because that was most definitely not part of the deal, but Dirk’s lips are quick to brush against his and shut him up. Jake sighs when he pulls back, conceding.

Dirk was right; it feels like he’s being tied up when the leather starts wrapping around his wrists, his ankles, his hips, and he basically is. There’re all these cuffs, and they’re connected by thick ropes of leather, and it’s even around his neck, across his forehead, down his cheeks. Jake whimpers when Dirk completes it all by sticking the mouthpiece between his lips. It’s thick and black and hard, and Jake would probably spit it out if it wasn’t so tightly fastened, if _everything_ weren’t so tightly fastened. He strains against the bonds, worrying the skin on his arms and legs. Dirk laughs behind him at all the squirming and, with a sudden tug of the reigns he’s got in his hands, has Jake’s head yanked back.

Whimpering, Jake lets himself be raised to his knees, teeth clenching down on the gag in attempt to stop it from straining against the corners of his lips. Spit is starting to leak there, and it’s embarrassing and uncomfortable, but he just shifts on his knees, eyes clenched shut from the sting of the cheek straps, and waits for Dirk to do something; Dirk, who’s right up behind him now, and apparently he got out of his clothes while he was getting all the reigns fastened, because his chest is warm and bare against Jake’s back. Now that mouth is on Jake’s ear again, nipping at the lobe, tongue licking out teasingly. Jake moans against the gag, cheeks burning, thighs shaking, dick twitching. Damn it, why can’t he just get on with it already?

Dirk proceeds to get on with it.

Jake hears the pop of a cap once the reigns are released and knows that it’s lube even before Dirk’s fingers are sliding down his back, cold and wet. He closes his eyes, willing himself to relax, swallowing behind the gag. The belt to the fake tail Jake’s got on is shifted so the tail doesn’t get in the way. Dirk’s mouth is at his neck when he pushes one finger into Jake, lips hovering, breath warm. His free hand is on Jake’s arm, hardly touching it, feather-soft as he runs it up and down the length of his forearm, stopping for a moment every time it runs over the fake hoof. Jake’s breathing slowly, leaning into Dirk’s touch one moment and into his lips the next.

It’s always like this with them. They can try role-playing, or going rough, going fast, but it always comes down to careful touches and kisses, slow breathing, close bodies, and quiet sounds of pleasure as either of them try to take in every sensation. It’s like that now, it’s already at that point, and Jake is completely fine with that. Dirk’s pushing in with two fingers now, and Jake is content with breathing deep and leaning the side of his head against the front of Dirk’s.

Dirk, however, grows tired of it quickly. Apparently, he doesn't want this to go like it always does, because once he’s three knuckles deep inside of Jake, he takes his free hand from Jake’s arm and uses it to forcefully shove his back. Jake falls against the bed with a squeak of surprise, unable to even hold himself up once Dirk pulls the reigns at just the right spot, forcing his arms to his sides, his face into the pillow. He bites down onto the mouthpiece when Dirk’s fingers are gone and he’s already pushing into him again, and Dirk’s low laugh is almost drowned out by Jake’s moan.

If he could, Jake would probably be complaining right about now, telling him to slow down, telling him to let up the tight grip on the reigns, but he can’t, so he clenches his fingers and pushes his tongue against the mouthpiece in attempt to help choke down his cries. They come out as broken sobs.

“Come on, Pony,” Dirk drawls, and Jake rolls his eyes at the pet-name, “don’t hide your voice from me.  It’s beautiful.” He runs a hand through Jake’s hair, gripping at the back of his head and yanking back, drawing a particularly loud whimper out of him. A buck of his hips draws out another one. Jake is very aware of Dirk inside of him, very aware of every thrust in and the drawn out burn of every pull outward. He gives Dirk what he wants, squeezing his eyes shut and allowing whimpers and moans to escape as muffled cries through the mouthpiece. He feels the drool dripping down his chin, wants to reach up and wipe it away but can’t. How in tarnation’s is that man holding those reigns so tight with one hand and gripping Jake’s hip so hard with the other?

He’s fucking into him harder, now, deeper, faster, and Jake’s not sure how much more he can take. He’s clenching down on the mouthpiece with his teeth, moans turning to sobs with each thrust of Dirk’s hips. He clenches tight around Dirk after a particularly hard thrust, pulling a low groan from behind him. Heat blooms in Jake’s belly at the sound of it, choked and desperate and so incredibly _Dirk_. He matches the noise with one of his own, far more broken and weak but just as desperate, and it only grows louder when Dirk angles his hips just right and pushes in deep, rubbing right up against his prostate.

Jake grips at the bed sheets desperately, moaning against the gag, against the pillow, face hot and chin wet with spit. He’s hot all over, too hot, boiling beneath Dirk as his boyfriend fucks into him, never seeming to miss his prostate. He feels sweat forming on his back, his neck, his face, feels the heat building in the very bottom of his stomach, feels the too-fast pulse of his blood. His dick lies against his thigh, twitching and leaking and very much ignored, and by the time Dirk’s hips stop moving, Jake’s thighs are positively shivering. He tightens around Dirk, crying out against the mouthpiece, and if he could beg him to move, to touch him, to do _something_ , he would, but he can’t, so he’s just lying there whining.

It’s an eternity at _least_ before Dirk pulls out, and Jake cringes at the burn, shivers at the loss. He wants to ask what the blasted fuck Dirk is doing, and not a moment after he has the thought, Jake’s being yanked to his knees, gasping at the sudden pinching from the reigns. Dirk turns him around and pushes him down onto his back, and the plastic nub of his tail is very uncomfortable as it digs into his back, but Jake decides he doesn’t mind as soon as a gloved hand closes around him, runs down the length of him as a hot body leans close, as a wet mouth is on his neck, as a lube-slicked dick grinds against his thigh. Dirk knows how to tease, and it seems he’s definitely not in the mood to let Jake get off easily. His hand feathers along Jake’s length, thumb running over the tip and pulling a gasp from him.

Jake is unsure of what to do with himself, closing his eyes and humming softly one moment, panting and wriggling desperately the next. He’s lost in Dirk’s touch, enveloped completely by the sticky-hot skin and the teeth at his throat and oh God, that hand. He’s breathless and so very out of touch from reality that he hardly notices when Dirk’s free hand comes up to pull at his mouthpiece. A button connecting it to the cheek strap comes loose with a pop, and Jake allows a plethora of curse words to fall from his lips. He realizes Dirk’s not holding any reigns anymore and uses the opportunity to bring his hands to Dirk’s hair, tangling them and gripping for dear life as his boyfriend’s hand quickens pace.

“Oh, Jesus, Dirk,” Jake mumbles, or tries to, but he’s fairly sure it comes out as breathy gibberish. Dirk chuckles against his neck, pleased with himself. He bites down, brushing his tongue against a mouthful of Jake’s skin, and swirls his hand as he pumps. His free hand comes up to scratch at one of the horse ears.

Jake doesn’t want to feel so desperate, doesn’t want his hips to be bucking, his heart to be racing, his breath to be shaky and shallow, but it is, and he can’t even try to stop it all. It’s hot, so hot, and he’s ready to boil over.  He runs a hand down Dirk’s back, reveling in the heat of his skin, and slides it down his hip and around to his stomach. His fingers run down the thin trail of hair below his navel, through the thicker hair between his hips…

Dirk hums against Jake’s neck when his hand reaches his dick, squeezing his own grip and rolling his hips into Jake’s touch. Jake pumps his hand slowly, thumb tracing the vein along Dirk’s shaft. Not surprisingly, it’s hard to maneuver beneath the tightly-strapped fake hoof. He tries to slow his breathing as he moves his hand, tries to keep his head, but that’s hard because everything has to be a fucking game with Dirk and he’s determined to get Jake off first. He really knows how to move his hand.

His lips are at Jake’s ear now, hot and wet and parted. “Does my pony want to come?” His voice is just above a whisper, hoarse and thick with lust. Jake cringes mentally at the whimper he lets out. Dirk breathes out a silent laugh. “Hm, Pony? You want me to make you come? You dirty little thing.” His hand is fast, now, expertly working up Jake’s shaft, over the tip, slicking him with pre-come as it drags back down. It’s not long before Jake’s shaking and his hand is all quick, uneven jerks.

“Dirk,” he whines, “please.” He’s not even sure what he’s pleading for. Dirk responds with a smirk against his ear and a tighter grip around him. Jake’s reduced to a sweating, begging mess by the time Dirk whispers, “come for me,” against his ear. Heat washes through him like a wave as he comes. He grips Dirk’s hair, curls his toes, bucks his hips…he’s unsure of the sounds he makes during his orgasm, too lost in the haze to care, but they’re probably humiliating. Dirk continues to stroke Jake until he goes quiet, come cooling against his stomach and he attempts to slow his breathing.

Before he has time to recover, Dirk’s fingers are digging under the leather straps across Jake’s chest and pulling him up. It’s no more than five seconds before Dirk’s sitting with Jake’s face shoved between his hips, and Jake takes the hint. One hand on Dirk’s thigh and the other against his lower back, Jake lowers his mouth down onto Dirk.

The taste of lube is bitter and Jake chooses to ignore it as he bobs his head, tongue moving against the vein on the underside of Dirk’s dick as he sucks. His boyfriend’s hands find their way to his hair, combing through it, petting it, scratching at the ears. He grips tight when Jake takes the entirety of him into his mouth, and Jake is pleased with the quiet purring above him. He bobs his head slightly, careful not to gag, and swallows a few times for good measure. Dirk moans. It doesn’t take much more to push him over the edge.

He fails to be quiet as he comes, broken cries escaping his mouth between pants. Jake’s mouth is still on him and he swallows quickly, not eager for the bitter, salty taste. He paws at his mouth as he sits up, letting Dirk wrap his arms around him and pull him down to lay on his chest. They’re both quiet for a while, eyes closed and breathing heavy. Jake draws lazy circles against Dirk’s chest with a finger. He can feel Dirk playing with his tail.

When Dirk presses his lips into his hair, Jake’s half asleep. “I love you,” he mumbles, and Jake hums against his chest. He shifts his head and plants a kiss on the bottom of Dirk’s chin.

“I love you, too.” He closes his eyes and lets himself be lulled by Dirk’s breath, his heartbeat, his warmth.

 

Okay, so maybe this wouldn’t be the _last_ time he let Dirk talk him into this.

 

 

 


End file.
